Quizzical
by pretend-to-care
Summary: Ariadne is giving Arthur the third degree-but why? Nothing but a fluffy little humor fic. A/A, of course. R&R!


**Disclaimer: None of the awesome characters from awesome Inception belong to awesome me. ;D**

**A/N: Don't ask me where this came from. I have no idea. **

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Ariadne looked at Arthur, flipping her pencil between her fingers. "What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

He glanced up from his laptop. "Vanilla."

She wrinkled her nose and made a mark on the booklet opened across her knees. "Okay…if you had to choose between meeting Martin Luther King, Jr. and Jessica Alba, who would you pick?"

"Mr. King," Arthur replied automatically. "You know, your 'couple questions' are taking a while."

"Not really."

"Yes really. You've been sitting there asking me random things for the past ten minutes. I'm trying to work."

"Trust me," Ariadne said, tapping the paper with her pencil, "this is more important."

Arthur sighed and resumed typing.

"How many books have you read in the past week?"

"Four."

Ariadne raised her eyebrows. "What do you hate the most about the beach?"

"Being splashed. By Eames."

"What color is your toothbrush?"

Arthur looked up. "Ariadne, really, I'm busy."

"What color is your toothbrush?" she repeated.

He sighed. "Red."

Ariadne made another notation. "Is your lucky number odd or even?"

"How many more of these are there?"

"Not very many. Odd or even?"

"Even."

"Is your sock drawer organized?"

"Extremely."

"Which is better, giving or getting?"

"Giving."

"Boxers or briefs?"

"What?"

"Arthur."

"Boxers."

Ariadne made one last mark on her paper and began wordlessly counting. Arthur was typing twice as fast as usual, trying to get as much done as possible before she started talking again.

Across the room, Ariadne furrowed her brow and frowned, staring at the ceiling as she did some quick math in her head. "Huh. Well…thanks, Arthur." She sat up and swung her legs off the couch, standing and turning to leave.

"Wait."

Ariadne stopped and glanced back at Arthur. "What?"

He partially closed his laptop, now giving her his full attention. "What were all those questions about?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"Well you can't just leave. What were they for?"

Ariadne waved the brightly-colored magazine in her hand. "Just a quiz."

"What quiz?" Arthur asked. "What was my score? Let me see."

She stepped back over to him and handed him the magazine. "You got sixty-seven percent."

Arthur began flipping pages. "What was the quiz for?"

"Well first I had to take one. And then I had you take one. To see how compatible we are."

His eyebrows flew up. "And I got sixty-three percent?"

She shrugged. "It was higher than Eames got."

"Wait…you made Eames take it? What did he get?"

"Fifty-one." Ariadne shoved her hands in her pockets. "Nothing compared to Yusuf and Cobb."

"They got higher?"

"Cobb did. Yusuf's was something like thirty-four."

Arthur looked up at her with interest. "What did Cobb get?"

Ariadne cracked a smile. "Ninety-two."

"…then you're most compatible with—"

"Cobb, yes."

Arthur chuckled. "Well, that's…exciting."

"Don't worry," Ariadne said, "I'm not interested. He's like twenty years older than I am."

"Twenty-five," Arthur remarked.

"Besides," she continued, "I'd hate to think what Mal would do to me."

Arthur grinned. "That makes two of us."

Ariadne smiled and took her magazine back. "Well…I'll see you later, Arthur." She began walking off again.

"Hey."

She stopped for the second time.

"Is a sixty-seven good enough for dinner and a movie tomorrow night?" he asked casually.

Ariadne smiled. "I'll see you at seven." She walked out, and Eames walked in.

"So," he said. "I don't know if you heard, but Little Miss Maze is having a few of us take a compatibility quiz."

Arthur was typing again. "Oh?"

"Yes." He sat on the couch Ariadne had just vacated, a faint smirk on his lips. "I got fifty-one."

"Good job, Eames!" Arthur exclaimed. "You finally passed something!"

"Oh how your wit astounds me," Eames said. "The point is, my score is the highest. Not counting Cobb, of course."

"Cobb?" Arthur echoed. "He's at least twenty years older than she is."

"More like twenty-five," Eames said. He put his hands on his knees. "Let me know what your score is once she gets to you."

"Will do," he said. "Hey, maybe she'll bring it up on our date tomorrow night."

Eames did a double-take. "Pardon?"

Arthur smiled. "I got a sixty-seven."

The forger grinned, chuckling. "Well well, darling. Perhaps there is hope for you after all." Eames stood up and headed past Arthur, mussing his hair. "But there _is_ only a sixteen percent difference. Who knows, if it doesn't work out…."

"Dream on, Eames."

He chuckled. "The numbers don't lie."

"And thank goodness for that," Arthur said. "Now we know without a doubt that she'll never end up with Yusuf."

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**Yes, the bad 'dream on' pun was done on purpose. Mwah. Hope you enjoyed it. R&R! **


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